Grace pulled the coat tighter around herself, as a particularly powerful gust of wind threatened to tumble her down the steep cliff path. Fighting tears, she was almost tempted to let it. Anything had to be better than this aching void she was left with. God she missed him.
Her belly twitched, reminding her why she couldn’t give up, and Grace smiled through her tears. Their child would never know their daddy. He would never know the treatment had worked this time—finally.
Carefully negotiating the rickety steps Grace made her way down to the water’s edge, and let the spray of the sea wash away her tears.
Baby Anna kicked again, as though to remind her that she was here, and Grace took the urn out of her bag.
It seemed fitting to end their journey here on this beach. The passage of time had corroded the cliffs, in much the same way as the cancer had corroded Jenson’s body, until only his shell remained, and the little frozen vials, he’d insisted on storing before he started the chemo.
Grace tipped his ashes into the wind.
“Fly my love, and know that you won the war in the end.”
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